Be
by ReachingOutFES
Summary: "I have not thought about living until yesterday" One-shot. Beta Read by Gin Nanashi.


**Author's Note: **Surprise? I did a forty-three minute freewrite like _Ari Moriarty_(Sorry I can't spell that) does regularly. This is my character analysis of the Female Protagonist. I did not give anyone names for this chapter so that anyone could put their favorite nickname in there... The next chapter of** Love to Live, Live to Love** is not coming till next week so here is something in the meantime... Thanks to _Gin Nanashi_ for editing it... Review and Favorite please?

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Monday, April 06, 2009

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I am aware… of what I am.

The train rumbles on towards its final destination.

I cannot help but stare at the other passengers who are… real.

What is the difference you may ask?

At first glance, there is no difference but, with one good look at me, you can easily point out my irregularities.

My eyes… They are not natural.

I have seen so many faces and so many eye colors but none of them are the same as mine.

Why are my eyes red? Why are they the color of blood...?

Blood outside of its vessels is something so wrong… But it is also a sign of life…

The day that I had long since forgotten and yet cannot forget is a distant memory but also a recurrent nightmare.

There was so much blood that night... The thought of it never fails to chill my soul.

My skin color is so devoid of life… I am like a ghost ready to disappear at any moment.

Still, I do not despise these people who are around me… I just envy them.

I knew... that I was not normal... I know that I am abnormal... that I will never be as all else is.

I am not me but him.

His memories play within me as a record do and I am forced to live that one year... that whole year... in an eternal loop.

I know who he is… But does he know who I am?

He does not have to be aware of my existence… In fact, it is better this way.

He should not have to endure what I must.

He is the number zero. And I am the number twenty-two: a number of limited potential, a number already predetermined.

My hair clips are already a dead giveaway… serving as a constant reminder of what I represent.

"Burn My Dread"... It is the song that always plays in my ears…

Why does he like to listen to music rather than people?

Does he want nothing to do with them?

Perhaps... But that changed over time…

I look outside the window towards that ever familiar scenery.

Is there a god watching over me? Or is it a malevolent entity that desires my suffering?

Or maybe it is someone who pitied me and placed me in this endless cycle of life?

Just how many times have I seen them suffer?

I have lost count…

They were so kind to me... always... though they never know much about me... But I value their company… I crave their warmth... because I am nothing from start to end and start again.

I share the same life as he had but not his face... never his face...

Why?

What has made me different from him?

He does not smile all the time nor does he to anyone except for that one certain year.

I want to be happy and I want to smile truly but it hurts.

No one should suffer what I am suffering from now.

It is my burden and I shall continue to carry it alone.

Sometimes... I feel this feeling when I am with that one... It has been described as love but I cannot accept it.

Love is something that I am not allowed to have... that I cannot have...

That one... the person whom I wish to give my love to... will only end up suffering because of me.

I can just feel it… Once upon a time, I thought that I could get away with such bliss but I eventually see what becomes of them.

It makes me want to cry but it hurts deep inside to shed even a single tear.

And yet...

Does he cry?

No… He holds back and it is my duty to do it for him instead.

So I cry in front of the mirror alone… and I wonder if I could ever see his reflection instead of mine.

But every time my fingers touch the glass… I am met with cold, hard resistance.

I want to meet him… I want to tell him... that all of these journeys were not in vain.

I want him to be aware of me...

Why must I ask so much of him?

He alone cannot grant my wishes of becoming real…

Still...

The first thing I want to ask of him...

when I meet him…

if I ever do meet him...

someday…

somewhere…

is…

"Can you teach me to be?"


End file.
